Best Corresponds Poems
When your heart
corresponds
with your mind,
then, give it a shot,
you write
back to me
what expressions
you so badly
need
to bleed;
the characterisation
of letters
are alphabet soup
to me, child's play,
peeling tattoos
like bells ringing
over a tongue
not speaking,
I swallow words
hungrily
then I spit them out,
bullets that pierce
a page,
bulls eyes
staring back
through the black holes,
the other silent horns,
all silently complicit
small missions
of truth
cornucopias,
wearing through
the thin fabric
of ludicrous
fantasy
feathers that fall
from soft pillows
quaking against
levees breaking
the barriers hitting marks
the sands of time broken,
river banks splitting,
the bodies drowned
and sucked up
like works of art
in a hyped up
Hieronymus Bosch,
if you are in deep
you can make sense
of it all,
you know you're in it,
that picture, way, way
up to your eyeballs
brushing against
all the others, removed,
flotsam and jetsam
in the wash, sensing
the path they all took,
but the mystery
of never quite knowing,
like a smell, pervades
charcoal tears
melt all the ways
a heart can be kicked
down and gutted
witnessed through
gilt edged windows
full and jaded
to a gate opening,
the sound cracking
like a mouth
terraforming
dustied and green
the shaman soul
found underneath
it all, humourously
rustling sage over
the external,
a serious novice
for burning
small
exorcisms
smoking out
renegades, those
stubborn seeds planted
in long spent sentences,
those true romantics,
the forgotten ill-bred,
well-tilled, rebel poets
small
exorcisms
for burning
Candide Diderot. ‘24
violins.
My love
for you
happened
like
a photon
strike,
ejecting
electrons
of desire
into my
beating
heart,
flooding
veins
with fire.
Zepto-
second*~
a sliver
of time
faster than
the blink
of my
eye**;
as power-
full as
Cupid's
arrow
hitting
its mark
invisibly.
*The zeptosecond is a unit of time equal to 0.000 000 000 000 000 000 001 seconds, that is, 10?²¹ seconds. It's the smallest sliver of time yet measured and corresponds to the amount of time it takes for the electron to be ejected after the photon strike.
**On average the human blink lasts only a tenth of a second which is 100 milliseconds.
The 1AC is a shot in the dark.
When we use interrogative strategies
we create zones of visibility and possibility.
The potentiality for deliberation
towards a new politic.
The study of bare life signals
radical transformations;
The constitutive ambiguity of theory
is never clear-- is always double
Thinking of thinking;
A reflection that interrogates
the link between life and politics.
The relation between power
is complicated to consider.
The most authentic paradigm:
Sovereignty corresponds to ability
And ability not to be: a state of exception.
An act is sovereign when it realizes itself.
Bodies are made intelligible
through visibility and value.
When these components
are removed, what is left?
Operating in the shadows,
the truth often stays hidden
Fights break out like
“walking on minefields.”
Silently governed interests
implement policy which
silently neglect populations
further into the margins.
The bodies of the victims
emphasize this state of
exception making it more difficult
to identify, articulate and critique.
There are rare but significant attempts
to conceive the indistinguishably
between law and life.
Debate helps curtail individual power:
to shape behaviors and attitudes,
to be made visible and speak to the
systemic character of American injustice.
The possibility to fill the void
and mitigate impact of fighting.
Education can have a
dramatic impact. Mental
stimulation and meaningful
human interaction cause
social connection,
Zones of indistinction
regain the meaning they lost.
The key is to create alternative
conceptualizations of self
in relationship to others.
With broad political and social
movements standing behind,
uniting the call on the part of
democratic transformations.
Any radical change will be
more than cosmetic.
Young people now carry the banner
of struggle. Of democratic life.
A variety of discourses developed
to avert stemming the flow--
reverting to secrets we do not know.
Claiming that debaters can “solve”
by repeatedly rejecting and interrogating
the tradition is a key strategy in creating
new modes of being the secret to every exception.
How it unfolds remains to be seen.
I do not have a perfect life
Blue, brown, yellow, black...
Orange and silver, civilize my emotions
Correspond to justify my ambiguity
Like a swarm of bees, protecting its hive
I have succumbed to my delicacy
It magnifies my efficacy
The roar of a lioness.
Lay to rest the troubles of thy self
Unfold the folded and iron the crumbled
Take a closer look in the mirror
Take a closer view in the puddle
Yes, the mystery is muddled up
You dread to look at your own soul
But nothing is much more stabbing
Like the hearts sore.
Different views, different tastes
She is not you, You are you
You wish for clarity, but
Charity you never tried
Purity was never your choice
I smell darkness
The roar corresponds to the howling howls of the night.
Sleep my emotions sleep
The night is still young,
So are you?
It was never promised to no man but,
Tomorrow is another hectic day
Pathetic is no fit to define
Lock the voice-box, sustain the roar
Sleep well my love,
Sleep well.
Who may rise?
Who may fall?
If Love is power unto itself,
It therefore must be
A force that binds
Builds, and
Answers every begging
Question of the Soul.
Of men
It beckons the heart
To yearn for the unknown
Knocking at every door
To see the unseen
Seeking metaphysical
Truth
The One formula
To every equation
Equaliser of Life.
If we descend into the depths
It is there to lift
And make anew
When she calls to
Thee
Will we therefore
Rise to heights
Never before revealed.
Must we limit her heights
With weights that
Atlas can no longer hold
Shall we then tenfold
make her known
In a world of jarred
Hatred?
She is more than lustful I's
have ever seen in a
Material world that works
To undo our solidarity
Within Creation's Hands
Her natural ability to
be a beacon of light
within the gloomy
corridors of cloudy minds
More than pivotal positions
Of politics
She corresponds to
Pythagorean mystical
math
The Order of One
Right Angles
The knowledge of Angels is
Algebra
Dare we solve the unknown,
Our Destiny
A testing of Will
To Rise above circumstance?
Who may rise?
Who may fall?
We've all been summoned
To her feet
Given the power to walk upon
Waters with the
Sands of time beneath our feet
How dare we fall for not
Answering Her Call?
The Armour
Faith
Hope
Love
A chord not easily Broken
No world weapon shall prosper
Embrace her and be
Solely free to
Experience God
The very Heartbeat of Life
Rise Royally all in her Name
A Love Supreme.
Kevin Guru©2017
A Love Thang
Rise or Fall.
Already the month
of August 2018,
May never become
a je June'm
(Forget-me-not)
time of year,
especially for nouveau
homeless and,
penniless residents,
(now more like worrier),
who reside in the
(burnt to a crisp)
Golden State where,
towering uncontrollable
wild fire infernos veer
really did tax mental,
physical, and spiritual
oye vey iz mare (to
the bajillion power
of Google Plex) their
heirlooms, mementos,
and trappings of
das kapital lifestyle
went up in smoke,
which tragedy didst seer
the eyes (yes, iz traumatic,
but also the air)
looms with toxic
particulate matter,
though concerned former
propertied owners
(now ashen faced)
as utter grief doth rear
a scorched (bumping) ugly head,
yet the onset of Autumn,
(and the main
purport of this poem)
(oh my dog, that twill be
in approximately three weeks,
when Eastern Orthodox Church
denotes beginning of ecclesiastical
annum mull house
for straight or *****
(these times opening
doors to LGBT, or GLBT
(an initialism that
stands for lesbian,
gay, bisexual, and transgender),
nonetheless history
replete with app pear
chock full of factoids such as:
September (Latin septem,
"seven") with near
exhaustive steeped in
pagan glory of antiquity.
Ancient Roman observances
for September include:
Ludi Romani, originally celebrated
September 12 - September 14,
later extended to
September 5 to September 19.
In 1st century BC, an extra day added
in honor of deified
Julius Caesar on 4 September.
Epulum Jovis held: September 13.
Ludi Triumphales held: September 18–22.
Septimontium celebrated September, and
December 11 on later calendars
September called "harvest month"
in Charlemagne's calendar.
September corresponds partly to
Fructidor and partly to Vendémiaire
of first French republic.
On Usenet, September 1993
(Eternal September) never ended.
September called Herbstmonat,
harvest month, in Switzerland.
The Anglo-Saxons called
month Gerstmonath,
barley month, that crop
then usually harvested.
Bark at the Moon
They tell me that I’m in here cos I, not very well,
If the medicine is working ,don’t think I can tell,
I hope I aint here long, cos I don’t think it’s fair ,
So I sit on my bed and pull out my hair ,
Talk to strange people that are not really there ,
My wife keeps on phoning and says are you coming home soon,
And I say to be honest ,I think I’ll just stay here,
And bark at the Moon
The walls in my room are exceptionally white,
And the light in my room is exceptionally bright,
Sometimes I panic and start to self-harm ,
But the Doctors soon cure that with a shot in the arm,
My neighbors are noisy and make such a racket ,
But I can’t bang on the walls because of my jacket,
I begged for the doctor to let me out soon ,
But he just laughed and said bark at the Moon,
My wife doesn’t come now ,she corresponds by post ,
don’t get many letters one a month at most
Its gone on for so long now don’t think I can cope ,
So I managed to get me a nice piece of rope ,
The doctor came in and saw me hanging down ,
Then turned to the nurse with an irritated frown ,
Best get a knife and cut him down soon ,
But I wish I could leave him to bark at the moon…
my destiny stems far and beyond
born with the spiritual
no need for a magic wand
within, ancient wisdom corresponds
people unintentionally fear the black swan
I’m a freedom fighter better than Flynn from the movie Tron
the force in me is strong, as I skywalk with Han
ideas constantly, sprouting like spawns
in my dreams I own a fast-pitch ball golden glove like Barry Bonds
driving eclectic rides and carry gadgets, 007 call me the female James Bond
taking down cruel empires more strategic than Ghenghis Khan
form a strong squad like the lions of Voltron
at times I begin to feel lost and withdrawn
it’s difficult trying to save a world,
when most of people don’t know they are pawns
I feel for them just as much as Chaka Khan
my hope remains alive from dusk til dawn
I can almost feel the molecules that make up the pink clouds.
A bright, yet subtle hanger that's seems so close, but is so far away.
Like the settling of a tree where it's seed was planted the roots search for life far below the surface.
The wind brushes against each leaf and in unison I can hear the angels whisper.
The setting of the sun and it's last glare kisses the edges of the clouds illuminating the sky partially before night sets in.
The ruler of the stars drifting off to deliver light to another part of the world and making way for the smaller stars to be present.
The moon light on crashing waves with a cool breeze brings me closer to each ball of gas for star gazing.
The sand is cool and the smell of the ocean reminds me of my existence in this universe.
Far beyond the horizon my soul lingers to look over the edge.
The mountain tops are so small in the distance I trace over their silhouette with my fingertips, imagining how crisp and the thin the air maybe.
I look down into the valley below watching how every intricate detail is aligned and corresponds with one an other.
I can hear the birds traveling together, the animals rustling in the wilderness and the worms deep below the blades of grass.
And that is when I can almost feel the molecules that make up the pink clouds.
1/29/2016
I can walk, talk,
Think and breath,
I can try, cry,
understand and comprehend.
My past is a video,
My present is a concern,
My future is a vision,
My voice is volume less.
I have friends, some with dreads,
Together we have been,
Together we will learn to be,
Though some we have thrown in the bins.
Some come and go,
Others remain,
Some remain as statues,
Others remain as ladders.
I am the definition of poverty,
The symbol of struggle,
I am the parable of the hunter in reality,
The spear of the great jungle.
My heart posses nothing, but peace,
My mind corresponds nothing but reality,
My exsistance is a threat for some,
My presence is a blessing for others.
I sweat for my stomach,
"I wish I was a soldier",
Sometime I imagine,
Perhaps I could stand much more stronger.
There is no more war,
Yet I am attacked,
All I ask is to prolong my life,
All I seek is harmony.
Apologies for any hurts,
Together we can cross beyong imagining,
This is the voice from my heart,
The melody of my tongue,
The suspension of my moods,
The hidden part of my True " I".
N.H Kandjimi
“Ceasing thinking, begin feeling ~
Rapture of bliss beats appealing”
- quote by poet
Let us today discuss divine energy
Innate, immediate and intimate
Needless confusion abounds
So let us get facts straight
Made in image of God
Our true essence is living light
Thus, we merely ensoul this body
To grow in love and garner clear sight
Reworded, this decaying form is but dust
Body is made alive by breath of God
We are as He but yet know not
Direct knowing has us awed
Breath of God is Holy Spirit
It is also called Kundalini and Chi
Labels matter not, It is Divine Mother
When ego dies, who we are we then see
With the above preamble we may begin
To comprehend what this energy is
In short, it represents our Self
Love and light and bliss
We are here, so God too is
He dwells in the cave of our heart
If heart be pure and we seek God alone
We will vividly feel within, bliss ignition start
We have in us, male and female polarities
Energy in potential and energy kinetic
Potential is vast space all around
Kinetic is movement ecstatic
Divine energy is kinetic
It is everything that moves
Within body too, kundalini pulsates
Moving though enigmatic energy grooves
We have within us several energy vortexes
Each node corresponds to a vibration
Liken it to the colours of a rainbow
Refraction causing creation
Divine Mother is at root of spine
Our Father is said to be at the crown
Mother ascends, entwining at the fontanel
Both descend to heart, meld and in bliss drown
This depiction is real and certainly not symbolic
Simply stated, it represents death of ego
Desires renounced, we live internally
imbibing bliss in stillness slow
Bliss fixates our attention
In time, our eye becomes single
Compassion grows, we see all as one
As by day and night amplifies the bliss tingle
Back to the start, when we see clearly who we are
Which is, as we said before, eternal living light
We continue earth life but are now awake
With both clear sight and bliss delight
https://m.soundcloud.com/user-921599710/fundamental-frame
The absence of which, who could withstand?
The evolution thereof corresponds with us
Expansion likewise
Enabler of movement, our fundamental support
Protection for such living things
Joints and muscles – we limber on
Muscle contract, muscle relax
A framework within
Exoskeleton outside
So ribs protect – heart and lung surround
Skull protect – shield the brain
Where two or more join, so joints comprise
A fundamental function
A vital role to play
Solid and strong, yet spongy within
Inner bone marrow – tissue living
Small bones of the inner ear
Larger bones increasing gear
Leg bone, arm bone, rendered to walk alone
High bone, thigh bone, ever so required bone
Written by Geraldine Taylor ©
*A PRAYER IS LIKE A SONG REQUEST*
A prayer is like a song request
You love the melody it brings
Each... note... aligned... along... the... page
Corresponds with a masterpiece
Our prayers are very much the same
In that when we pray them
They create a most beautiful arrangement before the throne of our King
So I challenge you this day to SING!!!
SING TO JESUS WITH YOUR PRAYERS!!!
SING TO JESUS WITH MUSICAL NOTES THAT ARE ONLY SUNG FROM
YOUR HEART TO HIS!!!
SING!... SING!... SING!...
*worshiping the Lord Jesus through poetry
Gwendolen Rix
8-21-114
Come the dawn, the rising sun
Unapologetic, offers no introduction
Source of life, same for one and all
Cares not what is our religion
The gently flowing, wafting breeze
Soothes by touch, in embrace and release
Enlivening all sentient beings on this planet
Blessings of Mother Earth never cease
Heartbeats each moment repeat
Maintaining optimal body heat
Pulse of aliveness, judges not our belief
Love entwined with love makes us feel complete
Oh weary hermit, label not God
Religious fundamentalism is narrow and flawed
Each soul is an aspect of His essence
Our ego identity is but a facade
Love alone is real, know this
Sans desire, our emptiness radiates bliss
All that is, is God consciousness alone
Feel on the fontanel, His loving kiss
17-June-2022
Notes: Fontanel corresponds to the crown chakra (Sahasrara)
He answers prayers, still responds
Never leaving the heart in fear
A breath away, He corresponds
With those who know He’s always near
Our words, though they’re words without form
Offer Him faith, sincerest praise
He sees our hearts through every storm
Bringing a grace that will amaze
He sings joy through our hearts and souls
Reflects the promise in His word
Reminds it’s love that He controls
Peace delights the heart He has stirred
Breathless worship sighs from our hearts
Knowing Him whose living within
Hushing the dark, His love imparts
Insight where His kindness has been
He smiles as we fall to our knees
Offering our hearts through prayers
His love answers our needs, our pleas
Gently, He wipes away our tears
I’ll never know love more perfect
Grace more pure, worthy of respect
His love prepares hearts to expect
Joy past what the world can reflect
He is my hope of forever
Thanks to God’s grace, I know Jesus,
And, He knows me, a whosover –
Who believes in Him who frees us!